Reader shares memories of life with, without wife

In times of loss, we lean on stories to recall the departed and heal our broken hearts.

Barely two months ago, Bill Easterling of Clio, Ala., lost the love of his life, his wife of 51 years. He is doing well, he says, all things considered, thanks to the lovely blessings of faith, family and friends — and six old dogs that expect to be fed.

But facing the holidays alone for the first time without Elaine, he felt a need somehow to write and tell me about her, stories from the good life they shared.

"At 85," he explains, "one begins to look back. ..." Bill lost his mother when he was 5 years old, and was reared by his father, who never remarried.

"We lived alone and times were difficult. In 10th grade, I asked if I could leave home and my father agreed, provided I'd promise to finish high school."

Bill made good on that promise and then some. After serving in the Merchant Marine in World War II, he went to college, finished law school, graduated from Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary in Fort Worth, Texas, and finally began to pray in earnest for a wife.

That's when he met, fell in love with and married a "spinster" schoolteacher, Elaine Battles.

"I was 34. She was 30. Our first year of marriage consisted of our teaching school and serving in two rural churches."

Then one day they got an idea to build a fish hatchery and soon became pioneers in the catfish business.

The word "catfish" reminds Bill of one of his favorite stories about Elaine: One year, they were asked to stock a pond for a customer in a nearby town on Thanksgiving Day. Bill promised Elaine they would go out afterward for a big Thanksgiving dinner at a restaurant.

"Turned out there were no restaurants open and all the stores were closed."

Finally they found a little country store where they bought a can of sardines, two drinks and some crackers. They sat in the truck, gave thanks and ate it all. It was good.

That night, he recalls, Elaine looked in his eyes and said, "Bill, this has been the best Thanksgiving of my life."

Bill's not sure how the whole thing started with the dogs.

Somehow, word got around that if you had a dog you didn't want, you could leave it at the Easterlings' place out in the country and they'd take it in.

Over the years, Bill and Elaine took in more than 60 dogs, pedigrees and mutts of every persuasion. Each was taken to a vet for treatment as need be and given a loving home for the rest of its life.

Bill still has six dogs to look after, including Old Ben, who showed up years ago with a steel trap clamped on his leg.

"I'm not going to take in any more," he says. "It wouldn't be fair for them to outlive me and have nobody to care for them."

At Elaine's memorial service, in lieu of flowers, guests were encouraged to make a donation to a humane society, or take in a stray dog or cat in her memory.

Elaine would've liked that.

Bill sent me a copy of a photo showing the two of them strolling hand-in-hand by the fishpond, surrounded by a pack of happy-looking, dancing dogs. Elaine is laughing, holding up treats.

"She was such a pleasure to be with," Bill says, apologizing for the tremble that he can't quite seem to calm in his voice.

It is hard for him to talk about her, to tell the stories of the love and the life they shared.